


Flowers Fall Back to Their Roots

by Ignatia_Solomon



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, BAMF Oscar Pine, BAMF Ruby Rose, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Magical Bullshit, Post-Apocalypse, Spoilers: Volume 8 (RWBY), Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, i've got more in store but I don't want to show my hand yet, no beta we die like dumbasses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28849923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ignatia_Solomon/pseuds/Ignatia_Solomon
Summary: Because once the war of scorched earth and attrition came to a close, there were no victors, only the ones who would lose last.So the last losers did the only thing they could; they held hands and looked up at the sky; they cried bitter, bloody tears and grieved with broken souls. They begged the shattered moon to affirm they made the right choices up to this point.But like the gods, the moon would not answer, and the two were abandoned to the solitude of the empty world.Synopsis: Rosegarden Time travel fix-it featuring adult Ruby and Oscar being angsty badasses trying their best.
Relationships: Oscar Pine & Ruby Rose, Oscar Pine/Ruby Rose
Comments: 48
Kudos: 73





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WC: 3406
> 
> A/N: Wooooo look at me back on my bullshit. I have no self control.
> 
> Anyway, here’s the latest idea that’s possessed me: Rosegarden Time Travel Fix-it, featuring adult Ruby and Oscar (they’re 28 and 26 by the way, couldn’t fit that in there). Blame Lost Parallax by Nunonon for being so amazing and giving me an insatiable addiction to Oscar time travel fics (go read it right now if you haven’t already it’s stupid amazing good).
> 
> A few notes: If they seem too touchy feely it’s probably because I’m touch-starved and projecting to cope, whoops. Also, I have a habit of being super melodramatic when I write. Normally I trim it back a bit more in the editing phase, but I think the literal apocalypse warrants some heavy angst. I’m never sure whether I’m going over the top with it or not, and staring at the same text all day doesn’t really help my judgement of that. It’s something I struggle with so I’d really appreciate it if you let me know your thoughts on the tone of the story. I promise that it will get lighter from here, this is the lowest point (well maybe not but it’s definitely down there.)
> 
> I don’t have a beta. I never have had a dedicated one, but I’d really like one for this story. I only need minor proofreading. If you’re interested in hashing out fine details, judging pacing, and making sure I keep the plot holes down to the minimum please send me a message.
> 
> That’s about it. I have the next 7ish chapters outlined, but my semester starts tomorrow so we’ll see how quickly I get it written. I do have the ending planned, so I’m pretty determined to finish this. Please let me know what you think in a review, it’ll increase my motivation to work on this.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> Iggy

Even after the world went silent and the heroes and villains met their end, the night sky was still absolutely breathtaking.

Up above the twisting violet clouds pulled apart from coalescence to reveal an indigo and cobalt canvas, spattered with shining silver lights. Only some of those lights were stars; many of them were the shattered remnants of the broken moon that had finally been scattered across the night. The light that was born from the fragments glittered like precious gems cut to shards, illuminating the world below.

Looking at them, it was impossible to tell if there had ever been a moon in the sky at all.

And soon, there would be no one left to to remember the moon that once was.

The only two who did laid in the ashes, gazing up. Bloodied and bruised, body and soul, but breathing. Breathing, still. Children no longer, innocence ripped away by the circumstances they had the misfortune of being born to.

A boy, a man, an unwilling inheritor of duty. He had destiny thrust upon him, with all its cruel claws and endless cries for  _ more _ . Everything was demanded of him: his home, his blood, his will, his tears, his very soul. The next sacrifice of many expected to hold the line against unyielding, undying force.

A girl, a woman, forged into a warrior by the flames of total war. She only wanted to be a hero and was made to be a reaper. Because she was special, because she was able, because she was unable to harden her heart and deny the world her suffering. She fought for mankind’s salvation, and was gifted their inevitable demise.

Between them they were missing an arm, an eye, their most cherished ideals, and every loved one they had fought so hard to protect. All of it, in exchange for what amounted to an eternal ceasefire.

Because once the war of scorched earth and attrition came to a close, there were no victors, only the ones who would lose last.

So the last losers did the only thing they could; they held hands and looked up at the sky; they cried bitter, bloody tears and grieved with broken souls. They begged the shattered moon to affirm they made the right choices up to this point.

But like the gods, the moon would not answer, and the two were abandoned to the solitude of the empty world.

~~~

It had been seven days since they had defeated Salem.

A sentence that would have once inspired hope and joy: Ruby Rose and Oscar Pine, the victors, the survivors, felt nothing but hollow. There was nothing to celebrate. How could they when the witch took the whole world with her as she fell?

In the last decade, as the secret war had turned to unmitigated bloody chaos, the land of Remnant had slowly been decimated to the point of becoming completely inhabitable. Not only did the people fear the Grimm, but they also were forced to compete for treasured resources. It was incredibly difficult to mount a proper defense when no one was properly fed, and there wasn’t enough dust to heat their homes in the winter. And of course, the surge of negative emotions only made the Grimm scourge so much worse.

The kingdoms had fallen one by one, and the measly encampments of the survivors hadn’t been far behind. People grew to distrust one another and turned towards ripping out their neighbors’ throats to survive. It was exactly what Salem had wanted.

Yet their ragtag team fought to the bitter end. They had somehow managed to achieve tiny footholds and cling to life long enough to chip away at Salem’s arms. But every inch they gained cost a mile of blood.

And at the end of it all, Ruby and Oscar were the last two left to live in the epilogue.

They limped their way through land of Darkness, using each other as a crutch. Over the sharp, arid earth, amidst the silence and the cold, they held onto one another like a lifeline. They didn’t talk much anymore, not while they were moving. That took too much energy, the most they could manage were small squeezes of confirmation. Those were enough to communicate the will to go on.

There was no particular direction or destination in mind, just the determination to get as far away from Salem’s body as possible.

So they did the only thing they could do anymore, and they walked. How much longer they could keep going was anyone’s guess.

~~~

“Ruby? What should we do now?”

Oscar’s voice sounded like sandpaper, dry and scratchy. The two of them had run out of water two days ago, so they had to rely on less pleasant methods to stay alive. Ruby still couldn’t decide whether the cloying taste of ammonia or the perpetual layer of dust on her tongue was worse. “We get out of here, find survivors.”

“Ruby… I think we both know there aren’t any.”

The two of them were laying down for the night. They took shelter in the hollow of a rock formation that shielded them from the worst of the winds, huddled together under the crusted fabric of her precious cloak. The dried blood and crusty mud made it scratchy on her skin, but it was still a comfort. She knew she would never get the chance to wash it again.

“Ruby?” Oscar’s head was on her shoulder. She could feel his hair tickle her cheek, the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was grounding. “I had an idea, but I’m not sure it’s a good one yet.”

“Don’t doubt yourself, you have a lot of good ideas.”

A humorless chuckle vibrated along her shoulder blade. “Maybe, I’m not so sure about this one.”

The silence ticked past between them, backdropped by the peeling howls of the wind. She waited for him to explain.

Oscar’s left hand, his only hand now, hovered over the Relic of Creation. One of the two artifacts they had in their possession, it’s soft blue glow illuminated the walls around them. In its light Ruby could see the pensive frown on Oscar’s face. His eyes looked so tired. “I want to sleep on it one more night.”

“Way to leave me in suspense, you’re so dramatic.”

“Ha ha,” he nuzzled into her side, she returned the gesture. Being touchy-feely like this was one of the last comforts they had left. “Are you…”

He trailed off. “Am I what?”

“Are you satisfied with how it ended?”

She stopped breathing for a few seconds, only noticed it once her lungs began to ache. “This isn’t a story book, it never was, technically there are no endings.”

“But  _ we _ will end. Soon, probably. Are you content with stopping here? Do you think it’s finally time to rest?” His voice was a low whisper.

“Oscar…” She put an arm over his shoulder and buried her nose in his hair. “The war is over,” she couldn’t bring herself to say that they won. “The outcome might not be the greatest, but I’m relieved. We don’t have to fight anymore.”

“If you could go back and do it again, would you?”

“Could I change things?” Oscar nodded slightly under her chin. “Then… I might have to sleep on that too.”

Oscar hummed lightly and said nothing else. A few minutes later she felt the tension in his shoulders slacken, and his breathing slowed to a crawl. Asleep.

She almost smiled. Instead she matched her breathing to his and let exhaustion claim her too.

~~~

There was no plan. For most of the past 4000 years, there never was a plan. Only stall until the inevitable and then to make the inevitable as troublesome for Salem as possible. That was the reality Oscar had come into when his journey into hell began.

And maybe he was too naive or optimistic, but Oscar hadn’t wanted to accept that. As soon as the depressing, horrifying reality came to light, he found himself trying to plan a way out of the end. Countless ideas and strategies thrown at the issue, very few of them proved to be fruitful. The ones that were often bore fruits he had no desire to partake in, but sometimes he was faced with no option other than to starve.

So Oscar ate the fruit, he kept making plans until the promised ending became the ending narrowly avoided. With his meager skill to strategize, along with the talents and assistance of many others, he and his friends had come out the victors by default, and he survived. He survived.

The endgame had come and passed, and now that he was unexpectedly still alive he had no idea what to do. The millenia old grudge match was finally over, and he was starting to realize he had never considered what came next. Oz was gone, or at least his voice. All his memories were left behind, the tangled and convoluted mess that they were, but his spirit felt far beyond Oscar’s reach. After what had happened, he entertained no notions that he’d ever be hearing from him again.

That… made him feel terribly lonely. He felt loss. For a teacher, a brother, a father: he wasn’t sure but it hurt. Oscar had a hard time remembering what his head felt like without the old ghost haunting it, and didn’t appreciate the feeling after being reminded. Except this time was so much worse than the half of year of silence when he was a teenager. Expected, definitely. Maybe poetic even, or logical, but it still hurt.

The only thing that made it bearable was that he wasn’t alone. He had Ruby. She was always his pillar, his rock in the storm, but she was shutting down in the aftermath and now he was terrified he’d lose her too. He could see it when she’d drift off while they were talking, or how her body would be wracked with tearless sobs while she slept.

Ruby was about three steps away from catatonia and there was no way to fix that before they died of starvation or dehydration or exposure. It was a reality somehow more gut wrenching than Salem, and Oscar had never felt more useless.

So, maybe out of habit, Oscar tried to plan against the inevitable. One night when Ruby had fallen asleep first, he reached for the Relic of Choice.

The Relic of Choice and the Relic of Creation were the only two relics they had left with them. The Relic of Knowledge, after the final question had been used, was buried in an unmarked plot somewhere in the frozen tundra of Solitas. As for the Relic of Destruction… A sharp phantom pain stabbed Oscar’s right shoulder at the memory of what had become of it.

But the Relic of Choice had been almost as painful to hold. Touching it incited memories to claw to the surface of his mind: the ones made by one of Oz’s past incarnations, the king of Vale, Phadrig. In that life he had seen visions of the future so terrible he had been too scared to touch the relic ever again. Phadrig had built great locked doors, walls taller and and a pit deeper than any of the other relic chambers, all to seal it away. Whether he was hiding the crown from Salem or hiding himself from its visions was unclear.

Oscar had thought about that while he gingerly held the golden relic, keenly felt the fear that had gripped Phadrig before him, and placed the crown on his head without hesitation.

And he saw--

He saw…

Tears would have streamed down his face if his body had water to give. Instead his eyes burned as he slowly removed the relic. He was shown what he needed; he had enough to make a plan. That night Oscar delved deep into Ozma’s memories, searching for the way to make the vision reality.

He found it: held the knowledge in his hands. It was staggeringly heavy. He could understand how Phadrig could be paralyzed by it, because it forced him to confront a choice that could change everything. So Oscar dwelled on his revelation in silence, because speaking it would make the desire and all its consequences take shape.

He weighed the decision of whether or not to make what he saw a reality, and when he couldn’t find an answer within himself he wondered what Ruby would think. So in the morning, after his final night of agonizing by himself, he told her his idea.

“Time travel?”

“Time travel.”

Ruby’s one silver eye was wide in honest surprise. She blinked a few times with the most bewildered expression; it was certainly a change compared to the exhaustion and depression that normally wore on her face. Her mouth opened and quickly shut, brows furrowing. “Time travel?”

He felt his face burn in embarrassment, as if the idea was really ridiculous. Well, it was, but still. It would have been comedic if they weren’t living in the literal apocalypse. “Right, time travel.”

“But how would that work?”

“Well, with magic. The old kind, from the first age of humanity. When magic was prevalent there were all sorts of spells, and a few of them allowed the manipulation of time,” Oscar explained.

“But if people back then could travel through time then why…?”

“If you want to ask the famous question, ‘how come nobody’s ever seen any time travelers,’ there are a few reasons.”

The two of them were sitting, propped up against the bottom of a sheer cliffside. It was morning, but they still couldn’t see the sun. The only way they could tell it was during the day was by the way the sky turned bloody red instead of violet. Ruby had her knees curled to her chest and tucked under her chin, listening intently to what he had to say.

“The biggest reason is, as far as I can tell, there were no spells for moving forward in time. As for the ones moving backwards, the feasible ones could only go back a few seconds to a minute.” Habitually Oscar slipped into Ozpin’s ‘teacher mode.’ “Magic that’s capable of going back larger jumps of time requires huge amounts of energy.”

“Then, how would it be possible? For us?”

“Well, while between the two of us we are currently in possession of all the known magic in the world, you’re right for thinking that it’s not enough. People in the age of the gods could produce significantly more magic than we can and still not have enough to leap through time. But we,” He held up the Relic of Creation. “Have this.”

He could see it dawn upon Ruby as her mouth opened a little. She whispered, “Unlimited energy…”

“Exactly. With this, I’m almost positive we could perform the spell.”

Ruby frowned. “So if we did this, how would it work? Is it like, our adult minds end up in our younger bodies, or do we jump through a portal and just show up in the past?”

“The latter would be best, since by the time the beginning of the end rolled around we were still too young. I think I was around 13?”

“I was 15, so yeah.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “It would be better if we could go back as we are, with the skills and abilities we spent years perfecting. Plus, it would be easier to move around as adults.” He set the staff down on his lap so he could scratch the back of his head. “That's technically harder to pull off because the energy demands are even more exorbitant than possession of the past self, but again, energy is not a problem."

“So are we working with closed loop time travel or branching timelines? Dynamic or fixed? Would we have to worry about disappearing as soon as we change anything?”

“I think you might know more about this than I do…” He mumbled, startled by the sudden flow of questions. She was taking it rather well, Oscar thought. Then again, he remembered some of the comic books she'd made him read in the early days of their quest, it fit. “It should create a new timeline, if I understand it correctly.

“The technical aspect will work, I’m almost certain we would have no problems with that part. What I want to know is how you  _ feel _ about the idea.” Oscar crossed his legs beneath him. “I know we can get there, but if we went, do you have enough left in you to keep fighting?”

Ruby’s whole body stiffened. For a moment she was very still, and her expression was blank. After a few seconds she rested her head on her knees and heaved a heavy sigh. She seemed very deep in thought.

“It would be exhausting,” Oscar continued. His voice became a quivering whisper as his emotions began to leak past his calm facade. “It would be a second chance, but it also means completely wiping the slate. Every loss, every victory-- it would be like it never happened. We’d have our knowledge and our memories, but going back means running the race again. It means--”

“Stopping Salem, again.” Ruby sharply inhaled. “Reliving the nightmare all over again.”

“Could you do it?”

“Could you?”

Oscar looked to his feet. “Not by myself. I’m not strong enough for that,” he answered honestly, feeling an acute flash of shame.

Beside him he felt Ruby curl in on herself. “There’s no guarantee that we could succeed again. If we go back, if we failed, then in the end Salem could win anyway. All of it, Yang, Weiss, Blake, JNPR, Uncle Qrow-- they’d have died for nothing. All of the sacrifices made to get to this point could become meaningless. It shouldn’t be worth the risk, but--but--

“How come I want to go anyway?” Her face was twisted up in anguish and desperation, like a knife had been driven through her heart. She sounded like I was in terrible pain.

Oscar swallowed a lump in his throat. “Hope. That’s probably because you still have hope.” Ruby shook with soundless sobs, and suddenly he was shaking too and they were holding onto one another for dear life.

“Am I selfish for wanting more?” She mumbled into his chest.

“No.”

“I want the happy ending.”

“Me too.”

“Then, should we--?”

Oscar pulled away to meet her gaze. “There’s no going back, no do-overs. You were right when you said this could fail, that it all would have been for nothing. Do you think we can do it all again?”

She said nothing for a while, only stared back at him. Then Ruby’s hands wrapped around his. “We can,” she choked out. “We can do better.”

A breath that Oscar had been holding for days finally escaped him. He held Ruby’s hand to his lips and kissed it. Even after all this time, her tenacity and perseverance awed him. A warm feeling spread throughout him, he was so relieved. “Then, shall we get started?”

They helped each other to their feet. Shaky as they were, there was a new sense of anticipation charging the air between them. Oscar began to explain how they would pull off the miracle to change their fate, as they continued to keep moving forward.

~~~

The smallest spark of hope is enough to call the broken and the weary to join the fight once again. It lights a fire within them; creates the light needed to chase away the nightmares so that dreams may grow and blossom. Through its power mankind has found the strength to get up again and again, even as the cruel world tries to beat it back into the dark void.

So even in the ruined world, when all else has been lost, the only two left could cling to the embers within and set themselves ablaze once more. For the sake of the light at the end of the tunnel, they could walk through their darkest night a second time. Even with all their doubts and fears, they could still believe that their end was meant to be a better one.

  
Because while there may be no victory in strength, there would be no loss in perseverance.  _ They  _ would decide where the story ended.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposition arc 1/2  
> In which Oscar and Ruby get to the past, get to Vale, and get money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo and welcome back! Thank you to everyone who left a review on the last chapter, I greatly appreciate them and I re-read them every time I sit down to work on this story so I can motivate myself to work faster.
> 
> One guest reviewer on FFN asked why Oscar and Ruby didn’t just travel back in time to kill Salem before she was immortal and had Grimm powers. My response to that is IDK, this is kinda just how I wanted to do it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Sure, that would make a lot more sense, but this is fanfiction and I’m only here to make sense when it suits me.
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter: First scene has a Lime (god, haven’t seen that term since 2012), it’s very mild but if implied sex makes you uncomfy there’s your warning. I swear that will be the only one in this story, and it is there for a reason that will be revealed next chapter. Also, last section of the story uses a lot of cuss words due to the POV.

~~~

_ Weiss was dead. _

_ There were a cacophony of emotions baying treacherously throughout her, reverberating off the walls of her heart and twisting into painful vibrations that left her whole body trembling. Her mind was an echo chamber, bouncing every negative feeling off the walls until they collided and shattered, showering her with sharp glass. _

_ She wanted to scream. Weiss was  _ dead.

_ In her mind she could see a flash of her hair, white as snow except for the blood--her own blood--staining the ends. She saw it flutter loose in the breeze, as she faced the horde of Grimm head on with a broken blade. Her platform heels and ripped, muddy skirt, and the way her shoulders squared in determination, even as she was engulfed by black nightmare. _

_ Her throat was sore, burning, as she screamed her name. Reached out and--!! _

_ She was asleep. This was all a nightmare, but it was one that mirrored the truth. A memory. Once awake her sleeping visions would no longer haunt her dreams, only her reality. Weiss was dead, and she could never come back. Her partner, best friend, closest companion, vanished like snow in the summer. _

_ She was far from the only; so many others had already been ripped away. SSSN and CVFY, FNKI and the Ace-ops, Robyn and the Happy Huntresses, Maria, Dr. Polendina-- _

_ Penny. Ruby had held her as she died for the second time. She had watched the magic die along with the light in her eyes. Felt the terror and the anguish when that winter fire lit inside her own chest, clawed a place into her soul. _

_ Nora. Shielded Ren and Jaune from a hail of bullets with her tiny body so the cloak that hid them from the Grimm wouldn’t go down. _

_ Qrow, her uncle, her teacher, her hero, damn near her father. She never wanted to think about what happened to Qrow. _

_ She hadn’t even been there when Yang died, but oh did she feel it happening. Her sister and Blake had gone out together in a blaze of glory, securing the line and  _ finally  _ taking out Tyrian for good as they defended the last caravan of dust from the encroaching Grimm horde. Ruby knew the exact moment Yang’s heart stopped, because the flames of spring blazed to life right alongside Penny’s winter. _

_ And now Weiss was gone too. _

_ “Ruby,” a voice whispered in her ear. Oscar. His hand was on her shoulder. The calluses on his fingers brushed over one of her scars, and she was brought back to waking. _

_ That’s right, she had crawled into his bed earlier that night. Seeking warmth, comfort, a few moments to forget--she knew she wasn’t going to sleep at all on her own. She nuzzled back into the crook of his neck, pressing her cheek against his skin. She grounded herself: matched her breathing to Oscar’s heartbeat, felt the slight scratch of the sheets that covered their naked bodies, let herself sink into the heat radiating from him. In the background she noted the subtle rattling of the room around them; they were in a stealth craft, flying under the radar directly into the heart of the Land of Darkness. _

_ A large hand carded through her hair and stopped at her chin. “Do you want to talk about it?” murmured Oscar. She did not, so she grunted into his neck. The message must have come across, because she felt his hum in acceptance. Ruby didn’t resist when he gently pulled her on top of him. “It will be over soon, we’re so close.” _

_ In the dark his face was shrouded; she couldn’t see his expression, but she could imagine it. Grim, determined, holding touches of fear and longing. He was still looking towards tomorrow, something Oscar was always good at. She thought she was good at it too, once upon a time. _

_ The bad feelings twisted in her chest again. She needed to smother them before she sank back down, so she pressed her lips to Oscar’s and melted out of reach before they could catch her. He let her. _

_ Once they landed in a few hours, they would have to proceed on foot. This was probably the last night they would have a bed, so it was best that they made full use of it. _

_ So she let herself float away on the waves of pleasure, and let the warmer waters hide the depths of the things she didn’t want to admit to herself. Someday they might flood her shores and wash her away altogether, but odds were she’d be dead before she had to deal with that. _

~~~

The air was… clean.

Of pollution, of blood, she couldn’t really say. Maybe it only smelled different because it wasn’t the air of Salem’s domain, which was thick with the black rot of Grimm. When hiking through that place, the taste of the air clung to lungs and clogged up throats with bitterness and fear.

Ruby took a deep breath and felt herself wanting to shed tears, but still couldn’t. Not until she could finally drink some damn water. Besides her Oscar was collapsed on the ground, belly up and panting in exertion. He shielded his eyes from the sunny skies above with the crook of his arm. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“I thought you said that you were certain it would work?”

He didn’t answer that, just made a so-so gesture with his hand before dropping it again. “The staff and the crown are gone. I expected as much, but it seems like the relics couldn’t make the jump with us. A little inconvenient, but probably for the best. Crescent Rose?”

“Here.” She unfurled her sweetheart. At this point, she was her most enduring companion. The unfolding into scythe form produced the same melodic clacks of metal on metal that told her everything was still in working order, though she could tell she badly needed a deep clean. “We’ll need to get you a weapon, and a supplier for ammunition.”

The cane passed down from Oz incarnation to incarnation, probably the sturdiest weapon Ruby had ever known, finally snapped in the final battle against Salem. The last of the power that had been stored within was used up, so it was a normal cane once again. Maybe it could have been repaired, but the pieces were kicked into one of the Grimm pools during the final scuffle. There was no coming back from that.

Oscar sat up and nodded. “First thing’s first though, we need to get to Vale. And figure out exactly how long we have until the beginning of the end.”

She nodded grimmly, collapsing her scythe and storing it once again. “Right, starting now no more mistakes.”

He fixed her with a skeptical look, the one that always made her leary because it always reminded her of her old headmaster. “Careful with that mindset, or you’ll fall apart the moment something goes wrong.”

“I’m mentally prepared,” Ruby insisted, because she  _ was _ . There was no way in hell that she was going to let a chance like this slip away. “We  _ have _ to be at the top of our game. We’re changing the future, this isn’t going to be easy.”

~~~

“That was… almost concerningly easy,” Ruby muttered, sprawled out on the short cot beneath her.

She was referring to how she and Oscar had been able to enter Vale in only a little under two hours, even after showing up at the immigration checkpoint looking like death warmed over in the fiery pits of hell. The poor clerk who handled their paperwork looked distinctly uncomfortable throughout the whole affair. Oscar wondered if it was because they smelled horrible; neither of them had bathed in some two months.

“Vale has the policy of taking in all refugees that turn up at its gates with as little hassle as possible,” he supplied. “If they let groups of exhausted, scared, and recently homeless people sit outside their walls for long periods of time it would attract huge Grimm hoards. The legal process for becoming a citizen after this is also fairly lenient, compared to other kingdoms.” They were fortunate that Vale had one of the more relaxed immigraiton policies of the four kingdoms. If they had to get into Atlas instead, it would have been much more migraine inducing.

Ruby nodded along, half listening. She propped herself up on her forearms and appeared focused on the corner of the room, where a group of migrants were huddled around a mid-sized holo-vision. Old, or, he supposed they were actually current, tournament fights were playing out on the screen.

Oscar sighed and looked out on the large room and the sea of cots that filled it. They confirmed exactly when in the past they had landed: the August before Ruby’s first semester at Beacon, approximately three months before the term and 14 months before the Vytal festival. After filing their paperwork with immigration, gods blessed showers, and a quick but very uncomfortable once-over by an overworked doctor, they had been filed here, where all the migrants without family in Vale were put until they could secure housing of their own. It was clean and well supplied, but the atmosphere was just slightly tinged with the negative emotions that were bred by rotten circumstance. 

“We need to square away a source of income. We’ll need lien to support us, since we won’t be able to keep steady jobs while we start to make changes to the timeline,” said Oscar. “The only thing I can think of that we can do without working in person is stocks and trading, but I don’t think we have enough time or initial capital to pull that off. Do you have any--Ruby?”

She jerked up at the mention of her name, “Sorry, was watching the fight,” and then she nodded in the direction of the huddled crowd.

“It’s the second quarterfinal match of the Vacuo Melee Brawl of ‘22, between Dogwood ‘The Landslide’ Jameson and Huckleberry Hyland. Landslide’s about to pull off a maneuver with his tonfa-pistol that’ll send Huckleberry almost out of the ring, but he’ll catch himself by jamming his sword into the edge of the ring.”

Curious, Oscar squinted to see the screen on the other side of the room. His eyebrows rose a little when exactly what Ruby said came to pass, and the guy he assumed was ‘Huckleberry’ was struggling to pull his hilt-deep sword out of the floor. The people grouped around the fight were making a ruckus: gasps and cusses, jeers and cheers in excitement.

“That saved him,” Ruby continued nonchalantly. “But he won’t be able to get the sword out in time. He puts up a fantastic fight barehanded, but it won’t be long until Landslide breaks his aura.”

Once again, prophetically, Ruby’s words came true. He watched as the fight came to an end as ‘The Landslide’ was declared the winner.

“Ruby,” Oscar began slowly, trying to keep the notes of incredulity out of his tone. “Have you memorized every single battle in this tournament?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Actually, I think I know the results of every major fighting tournament since I was seven. Also some of the less popular local ones too.”

Astonished, Oscar blinked, then chuckled disbelievingly. Even after all these years Ruby never ceased to amaze him in new and exciting ways. “Well, I know how to make cash now. By any chance do you remember any illegal gambling dens off the top of your head?”

“No.” She answered immediately. Then her brows furrowed and she sat up, she was thinking. “Wait, actually I might. There was one at this club that I had to pick Yang up from once. I think it was in some pretty shady business, so it’s probably as good a place as any to start.”

“Fantastic, then we have a place to start. They should release us tomorrow morning so we can start finding work, that’ll be our opportunity,” said Oscar. He felt a sense of relief, they needed to get these things out of the way so they could focus on the mission.

“It should still be there, it’s before Yang totally trashed the place,” hummed Ruby, idly.

Oscar blinked, “What?”

~~~

Ruby told him the full story on the way there. He was flabbergasted for about thirty seconds before reconciling,  _ yes _ that was definitely something Yang could and would do. Even if it was embellished or overdramatized, because Yang could be just as biased as Nora when it came to storytelling, the adult Yang he knew definitely could have single-handedly plowed through some night club without breaking a sweat. It wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine her 17 year old self doing it too.

Once night fell the two of them were making their way to through Vale’s industrial district. They walked through a concrete jungle, under underpasses while vehicles thundered above them. Yellow and blue lights seeped down from above and painted the lines between shadows on the path they walked. Oscar’s nose stung a bit from the sheer smell of  _ city _ . He was a farm kid at heart; he never fully acclimated to the barrage of sensations that was urban living.

He could hear their destination before he could see it; loud, thumping club music rattled beneath the cement. Ruby led him to a three story building with a brick facade. There was a sign hanging on the arch of the doorway that just read ‘Junior’s’ in block letters. She pulled him through a set of silver sliding doors and to the next 

And that was how Oscar found himself in the worst place on Remnant.

He wondered if having Oz’s soul made him into an old man, because strobing neon lights and pounding bass were  _ absolutely not doing it for him _ . He didn’t care if it looked ‘cool,’ he was going to have a seizure at this rate. Too many people all clumped around together, they smelled like sweat and drugs. And alcohol. Gods, so much alcohol. The stuff never sat well with Oscar. After the smell started triggering the second-hand pain of the liver failures Oz had given himself in a few different lifetimes of treating liquor like water, any personal desire he had for it just died.

(Nobody should ever let the responsible and fatherly image Ozpin cultivated deceive them. In four thousand years the infinite man had done  _ everything _ under the sun. Oscar could feel the burn of doing several lines of straight absinthe shots if he thought about it. The man was nuts.)

At least Ruby seemed to be enjoying herself. She was bobbing her head along to the music, ‘the music of her childhood’ she had told (read: shouted) him over the crowd. Her shoulders were still tense and her eyes flitted around the room scanning for threats, but it was the most relaxed he’d seen her in a while.

It had taken some finagling with the club bouncers, but their good luck streak held. He and Ruby were led to a back room, thankfully mostly soundproof. Much like the rest of the club, the black walls of the betting room were lit up by the white LED tube lights that stretched through his whole space, except for the back wall. That was completely blotted out with live streams of every major tournament and sporting event across Remnant, anything that anyone could possibly want to watch and make bets on.

And there were certainly people there. Oscar counted twelve one total: suspicious, well-dressed men and women standing around or languishing about over expensive furniture. Most of them were holding fancy looking glasses of alcohol that came from bottles that probably cost as much as a house. They were clearly cut from a different cloth than the people dancing on the floor below, but they had the one quality he was looking for; all of them were focused on a large holovision at the center of the room. The semi-final rounds of the Vacuo tournament were going to start in half an hour.

Oscar grinned.  _ Jackpot _ .

He met Ruby’s eye and saw her flash him a smirk.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he intoned loudly, feeling the condescending eyes fix him with a long stare. They were already being doubted. Perfect. “We’d like to make you an offer.”

~~~

“Hey boss, there’s trouble on the betting floor.”

Hei ‘Junior’ Xiong grunted as he looked up from the insurance paperwork that had been tormenting him as of late. Some of his guys, the dumbasses, had racked up claims when they crashed a car into a sandwich shop on mainstreet. One of them had the bright idea to leave  _ his _ insurance info with the owner, so now Junior had to deal with this shit.

One of these days he was just going to kick them all out, consequences be damned. Nothing was worth dealing with insurance companies. His rates were going to kill him now.

“What? Is someone throwing a hissy fit because they lost too much?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then tell them to fuck off. They came to  _ gamble _ , not have a goddamn tea party.” He begrudgingly scribbled in his social security number in the boxes where the form asked.

“Of course boss, it’s just that, well--”

“Spit it out already,” and why was this schmuck pussyfooting?

“They all lost.”

Junior paused, “ _ All _ of them?” If every one of them had made a bet with no clear winners, then by the established rules the house got the pot. Sounded great for him in theory, but he knew that picking it up would cause a lot of hard feelings in the future. “How much were they betting?”

“Well, okay, not  _ all _ of them. There was one winner and--”

“Get to the point.”

“500 million, sir. The pot is worth 500 million lien.”

The pen slipped from his hand with a clatter. Junior’s eyes widened as he jerked to gawk at his bouncer. “Say you’re joking right now.” The guy cringed and shook his head. “How the fuck did that happen? We have limits!”

“It was all the high-rollers, every one of them had special approval to go over the normal limit, so they okayed the bet.” Junior jumped from his seat and practically ran for the stairs to the gambling floor. From behind his bouncer scrambled to keep up with him. “They made such a crazy prediction, no one thought it was possible. It  _ shouldn’t _ have been possible, I still can’t believe I saw that--”

“Shut up, what’s the situation? Who came to gamble tonight?”

“Madame Pearl, and Don Dia Mante. They both put 100 million into the game and lost. Others too, but those two are the loudest.”

Junior muttered the worst curses he knew. He had spent most of his adult life building up his connections in Vale’s criminal underbody, his club acted as a neutral hub for all the gangs and families that had any power worth talking about. To keep them happy was to keep them entertained, hence the illegal betting ring. Pearl and the Don were two of his greatest benefactors. If they had a sour experience here his whole operation could be at stake. If they ditched him it would mean having to rely on his sister-in-law. He’d sooner take bullets up the ass before he licked her high-heeled shoes again. “Then who won? Was it Mr. Geld?”

“Uh, I don’t know--”

“You don’t know?” shouted Junior.

“I’m sorry! They’re new, I’ve never seen them before!”

“Who the hell thought it was a good idea to let a couple of first-timers into the high-stakes room? What if they were cops?” Fuck, it might actually be better if they were cops because then he wouldn’t have to deal with  _ this _ bullshit. “Go get the guys ready, this might get ugly.”

He didn’t get an answer before they reached the door. Taking a deep breath, Junior straightened his tie. Time to face the music, he pushed the door open.

Opulent was the only way to describe this room in his club. The betting floor by itself pulled roughly forty percent of his entire operation’s capital, so it had to be. This was the room that his wealthiest supporters put out for; compared to the rest of the club, this room was decked out with some stupidly expensive decor, holo-visions, and furniture. The couch alone cost 10,000 Oumdamned lien.

And now some punk had her shit-stained boots slung over the side.

“Hey, finally some staff showed up! I wanted a strawberry sunrise to celebrate our victory, but the bartender left a bit ago. Not very good service, might want to put in a complaint with the owner.” 

“Perhaps he’ll have some answers regarding how we can claim our winnings.”

Two of them, a man and a woman. The man was sitting up straight, perfect posture; spoke of confidence, good breeding, or some mixture of the two. He had this infuriating, knowing smile that suggested the former: cocky bastard. The woman on the other hand was lazing back without a care in the world, her head resting on his lap and her boots  _ up and staining the white, 10,000 lien couch---!! _ Junior took note of their clothes; rough and ragged as it was, it was obviously combat gear. Huntsmen, then. Maybe a pair down on their luck, looking to abuse their authority and extort a chunk of lien out of a group that couldn’t go to the police. Fucking creeps; Junior could feel his blood pressure rising as he got angrier at the thought.  _ ‘Who cares about their fancy training? There were only two of them, let’s see them smile after a bit of pressure.’ _

“We’ll certainly be having a chat alright,” he bit back. “A nice little chat about how we don’t reward cheaters.”

“Cheating? Now what on Remnant are you talking about?” The man answered with an annoying ‘ _ who, me?’ _ tone. His big eyes and youthful face just made it more grating. Junior had a strong urge to punch his teeth in.

He snarled and glared at the asshole. “One of you has a Semblance for this, don’t you? Some kind of foresight or whatever. Using Semblances to rig bets is clearly outlined as a no-go in the rules.”

“Awfully concerned about rules for someone running an illicit operation, but I suppose I can see where you’re coming from.” At that moment he noticed the man was missing an arm; his right sleeve was sheared off at the elbow, and hung empty. Junior hadn’t noticed, the bastard’s confidence distracted from it. “Rest assured, neither my partner nor I have used a Semblance to aid us tonight.”

“Bullshit.”

“I am telling the truth. Neither of us have a Semblance that would aid us in the way you are describing. Would you like a demonstration as proof?”

Threat. That was a threat. Junior could be a bit dense sometimes, but dandy man over there was fucking with him. Before he could reply someone whispered to him over his shoulder. “Boss, there’s no way they could have made their bet without  _ knowing _ what was going to happen. That chick there claimed that the Landslide would only win after getting knocked into the air by the Mortician twice, use his semblance to levitate the ring up in the air, and then use his feet to fire his pistol from handstand position to finally break Mortician’s Aura!”

“The fuck happened?” What  _ was _ that fight? That sounded so stupidly bizzare for tournament standards, more like a shitty web show. No one would expect that to actually  _ happen _ .

“It’s true! It was crazy, those two said that’s how the fight would go down and it went  _ exactly _ like that. They bet that if it went even a little differently they’d pay the whole pot out to everyone who was in.”

“And we were right, the fight occurred exactly as predicted.” Dandy bastard chimed in from across the room. “Now, I believe we are owed some 500 million lien.”

That’s it, whoever let that stupid, insane bet go through was getting the shit beat out of him and then kicked to the curb. Junior spared a quick glance at his regulars. They were huddled in a pack by the bar, holding drinks like shields and looking especially peeved. Madame Pearl and the Don were both shooting him withering looks that demanded ‘ _ fix this! _ ’

Well shit, that wasn’t good. 

Keeping a neutral face, Junior crossed his arms. “Alright then tough guy, sweetheart, how about we step outside so we can settle this matter. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

On his cue, several of his men entered the room with their weapons ready. Dumbasses he knew them to be, they could cut an imposing enough figure to ward off most troublemakers that walked into his club thinking they could cause a ruckus and get off clean.

Apparently it didn’t affect these two because Dandy just smiled wider, and the chick didn’t react at all. Junior was starting to get a bad feeling about all of this. “I’m sure we can. Shall we begin negotiations?”

Then  _ something _ happened.

Junior blinked, heard a high-pitched, screeching  _ whoosh _ , and when he opened his eyes the room had been turned upside down.

_ All _ of his guys were on the ground and curled up in pain, groaning loudly. A dusting of something red covered the ground. Junior squinted; were those… fucking rose petals?

He refocused, and saw that in the center of the room was a lone figure in a tattered red cloak. She had one boot pressing down on one of his guys’ back, and one of their red hatchets hung loosely in her hand. Her head turned to fix him with a glare, and Junior froze.

One eye, silver and flashing with a ‘try me, fucker,’ feeling. It set off some primal instincts in Junior, yelling at him to turn around and  _ run _ for his life; as if she wasn’t fast enough to gut him where he stood before he could move an inch. It took him a moment, but his head finally connected that this was the woman who was messing up his couch with her muddy boots. He gulped nervously.

Like a spell being broken, the sounds of screaming suddenly flooded the room as his wealthy benefactors began to panic. “Calm down!” He shouted, “Everyone just take a--”

_ Click click whirrr! _ Went the sound of a revolver being spun and Junior heard the click of the safety being pulled back before he could scream for his guy to  _ stop _ and--

The sounds of gunshots as one of his guys emptied his chamber on the woman in red. Junior flinched because  _ fuck this would only make things worse and--- _ a flash of green light.

Blinking his eyes to make sure he was really seeing, Junior stared at the woman in red who now stood behind a mirrored-looking shield of green light. By her side, the dandy man stood calmly with his arm up and gloved fingers stretched out. The barrier was apparently his doing.

Behind him, Junior could once again hear the clacking of a guy trying to reload his gun. He snapped around and snarled at him, “Stop that!” Because they were obviously outgunned and it would be real fucking pointless to keep shooting and just make these two  _ even angrier _ . His guy’s hands fumbled and dropped the gun to the ground with a clatter. Oum, he was surrounded by idiots.

“Well, that was very exciting.” Dandy was talking again. “But I think we’d all prefer if we talked over the rest of our terms. Why don’t we discuss this somewhere more discrete?”

Silence fell over the room once again as he entered a staring contest with the man. His face was smiling, but he had that look that made him just as predatory as his companion. Well, he spared another glance at her and her scary silver eye, almost as predatory.

“Go set up one of the private rooms.” He ordered the grunt over his shoulder.

“But boss--”

“Now!” He barked, and the guy went running. Junior took a shaky breath to steady himself. It was time to schmooze and hopefully not lose his life or livelihood. “Sorry about all of that, we’ll get this straightened out right away. If you two will just follow me…”

The man smiled amicably, “Of course, come along dear.” And Junior winced slightly as the man held out his hand for the woman, who took it as she stepped off Junior's guy like she was stepping out of a carriage.

After a few of the tensest minutes of Junior’s life, the three of them were seated across from each other. He was still stiff with one hundred percent reasonable fear, but the other two were annoyingly relaxed. The dandy man was still sitting upright with that perfect posture, legs crossed over one another and his hand in his lap. The scary woman was appearing deceptively less scary by sipping on a ‘virgin strawberry sunrise, with one of those cute little umbrellas,’ that she had insisted upon after they sat down. The image was ruined by the stolen red hatchet balancing on her lap, threateningly.

“Apologies, for causing such a stir back there. It really wasn’t our goal to cause such chaos.”

_ ‘Bullshit _ .’ Junior forced a strained smile. “It’s fine, it’s in the past. Let’s talk about the future now.”

“Right! Let’s start with the money owed to us.” Junior couldn’t help but flinch. “How much was it again?”

“500 million lien.” The woman chimed in unhelpfully between sips of her drink.

The man gave an impressed whistle. “500 lien is quite a large sum. I imagine it will be fairly difficult for you to extract it from the others back there.” He commented, hitting his troubles right on the head. “Here, let’s make a deal, Junior. We’ll cut you some slack, give us one percent of the pot and we’ll call it even.”

Junior blinked, “That’s it?” Because that was a stupidly generous deal. There had to be some kind of catch to this.

“Well, we’ll need you to render some specific services as well, but we are willing to pay you for those.”

“You mean with the money you’re scamming out of me?” growled Junior.

The man gave a light, lilting laugh. “Once again, neither of us possesses any kind of precognitive abilities. As you saw, she has super speed and I can make barriers.”

Oh yeah he saw alright, saw the messed up state his men had been left in. Against some of his better survival instincts, he bit back a retort. “Like hell you didn’t pull  _ something _ .”

The bastard only shrugged in response. “My partner here just happens to really like tournament fighting, nothing illegal there.” When Junior didn’t back down he sighed. “It seems I cannot convince you otherwise. Regardless, you’re hardly in a position to refuse. Unless you want to try calling for your guards again?”

Junior bit his lip. “What kind of services are we talking here?” Because that was going to be the venus fly trap that bit him for even talking with these two.

“Oh nothing too dreadful. We just need some identification, and a way to settle the portion of winnings we do receive.” The man commented nonchalantly in a way that was not comforting in the slightest.

“Weapons.” The woman chimed in. She finally put her strawberry sunrise down for a moment and was now examining the hatchet with an intense look of focus that made Junior squirm in dread, in case she decided she wanted to test out its capabilities.

Her partner nodded in agreement. “Ah yes, some assistance in acquiring a weapon and munitions will also be required.”

“That’s it? You only want some fake identities and weapons?” They were willing to take a 495  _ million _ lien pay cut just for that?

“Indeed. 500 million is a bit excessive for our purposes. We’ll even promise not to place another bet here, ever.”

The woman nodded and  _ finally _ put the hatchet down. She leveled him with that one silver eye, “It’s the best deal you’re going to get Junior. Either that or we leave here with 500 million lien, the hard way. Your choice.”

And that was the frightening alternative that made him even consider listening to their deal. Being forced to go and collect that from his benefactors would destroy all his bridges and likely cripple him for years, if not for life. He’d have to give up the club, let go of his men, and probably go back to being his sister-in-law’s grunt. That was the absolute worst possible outcome.

Dryly swallowing, he asked: “Five million is fine?”

“That’s right.”

He sighed and held out his hand, feeling like he was flirting with the devil. “Alright, we’ll do it your way.”

The man and the woman both flashed those unholy grins. They shook hands and sealed the deal. Junior prayed this wouldn’t fuck him too hard.

Later, when he was alone with the biggest bottle of scotch he had in stock, Junior rewatched the Landslide vs the Mortician match. He saw for himself the bullshit upset that had landed him in his current mess. He poured one out for himself and collapsed into his desk chair, exhausted. That’s when he noticed the paperwork from the insurance company, still strewn over the surface and mockingly incomplete.

With a growl he swiped his desk clear. Clatters and crashes bounced off the walls, along with all the shit he still had to deal with.

Junior needed a vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww Junior, try to focus on the bright side! At least your club wasn’t demolished (yet).
> 
> Hooo damn it’s finally done!!!! God, kill me, this was really hard for me to do. Sorry it took so long, between midterms and writers block it was hard to get this out. I struggled with a lot of this, mostly because it wasn’t very well defined in my outline. This chapter here is part of a two chapter ‘exposition/getting settled’ arc that is mostly focused on our wonder duo getting their bearings and finalizing their plan of action. Next chapter will be similar, but I actually have around 2000 words of it pre-written (not a lie this time) so fingers crossed it won’t be so agonizing. Once we hit chapter three onward it’ll hopefully be a bit sooner between updates, because those are the scenes I think about a lot and desperately want to exist.
> 
> So what do you guys think of this? I feel like I’m struggling with the characterization a fair bit… it’s kind of hard because I’m trying to make them believable adults who have gone through some shit, but still the Ruby and Oscar we know and love. That being said, part of the reason they’re so wildly out of character this chapter is because a) it’s mostly from Junior’s pov so his emotions are coloring a lot of it, and b) they are ‘show-boating’ so to say, being over the top to project a certain image to others. Hopefully they come across as more natural when they are by themselves, but it’s definitely something I need to work on.
> 
> Also, the action scene? What are your thoughts on that? High-pace action is typically where I shoot myself in the foot, so I’d appreciate some feedback on that. Not that there was much, since wonder duo kind of curb-stomped Junior’s guys in less than a minute… That seemed like reasonable power scaling to me, because if one (1) 17 year old pre-Beacon Yang could demolish the whole club by herself in an evening, then I think these two apocalypse survivors can too.
> 
> Anyway, please leave a comment telling me what you think! They seriously give me life!
> 
> Have a nice day!


End file.
